


Because of you

by Maymaaike



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Brotherhood, Conflict, Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Life Wisdoms, Losing your way, Love, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of dubcon/noncon, Room for a sequel, Some cursing here and there, Songfic, Tea, Tears, The importance of family, age gap, argument, family and friends, mentioned abusive relationship, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maymaaike/pseuds/Maymaaike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey Haz.” Louis tried carefully, staring at the hollow shell of a boy that stood in front of him, looking back at him dopily. “What do you know, it talks.” He murmured to himself, eyes running up and down Louis’ body to take everything in. “Of course I talk, it’s really me, Harry.” Louis voice came out a bit thick, wondering what was going to happen. Something changed in Harry’s face the moment he realised he wasn’t talking to himself, that he was talking to Louis. The Louis that he was supposed to never see again, the Louis that left three years ago to move on. He was real, in front of him, talking, breathing, being. The Louis that ruined him.</p><p>Or</p><p>All Harry really ever wanted was a brother. Sadly, Louis wasn’t aware of that.</p><p>[Inspired by 'Because of You'-Kelly Clarkson]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because of you

**Author's Note:**

> You cannot believe how glad I am that I'm able to get something out there to you. I've worked on this for months, so I really hope it's turned out to be something you'll appreciate. I've been really invested in this story in my mind, trying to make it realistic with the emotions-which was hard because I have not gone through such a thing. I used my emotions from different situations because I did feel like I could relate. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this!
> 
> This fic is inspired by Kelly Clarkson's 'Because of You'  
> Here are the lyrics from 'Because Of You' that I found fitting with this story:  
> "Because of you  
> I will never stray too far from the sidewalk  
> Because of you  
> I learned to play on the safe side  
> So I don't get hurt  
> Because of you  
> I find it hard to trust  
> Not only me, but everyone around me  
> Because of you  
> I am afraid "  
> [...]  
> "I watched you die  
> I heard you cry  
> Every night in your sleep  
> I was so young  
> You should have known better than to lean on me"  
> [...]  
> "And now I cry  
> In the middle of the night  
> For the same damn thing"  
> [...]  
> "Because of you  
> I don't know how to let anyone else in  
> Because of you  
> I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty"
> 
>  
> 
> Oh and here are the ages, for if you get confused:
> 
> In the past:  
> Harry 13/14  
> Louis 17/18
> 
> Present:  
> Harry 17  
> Louis 21
> 
> Sorry if the format is annoying, still can't do them properly  
> xx

To say he was surprised was an understatement. Louis had honestly never thought to hear from Anne again, and definitely not in the context it had been in just one day ago. He felt a bit numb and a whole lot of confused as he started his car and drove, back to where he’d sworn he’d never go again.

_Harry needs help, and I’m almost out of options. I don’t know if you can do anything at all, but..._

Harry. The name brought back so many memories. He’d never thought it would have such an impact on him. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Harry and his family for at least three years, so he was confused that the boy’s mum was asking for him, that she thought he could help. Louis still cared for Harry immensely, it still affected him to hear Harry wasn’t doing well, but he was doubtful about what he could do about that.

Harry had been the walking example of boy-next-door, quite literally at the time. Louis and Harry had been neighbours, Harry still living with his parents and Louis with his boyfriend. They had been great friends even though there was a four year age gap between them, they spent loads of time together. It was how Louis had pictured his life to look like for at least the next ten years, but things drastically changed at some point.

It had been a slow change, so slow not even Louis really noticed it until it had already gone too far. He had been too busy trying to adjust to the new life ahead of him, living away from his mother, had been too busy dealing with the new responsibilities. It had felt really grown up and amazing, to live together with his boyfriend, he had felt so privileged to be asked such a thing. It had felt as a promise to spend the rest of their lives together. His mother had reluctantly agreed to see him fly out of her nest a bit earlier than she had expected- Louis had been seventeen for three months when he had moved out- only because his boyfriend was a few years older and had promised to protect him.

It was a slip up, that time he’d been smacked in the face by that same man, it was a joke that came out wrong when the love of his life started commenting on his weight, it was a drunken mistake when that guy went home with someone else... He apologised more than enough for Louis to forgive him, to leave the door unlocked for when he decided to come home after all.

Louis had been quick to make excuses, because they’d been high school sweet hearts and it’s understandable for someone to get conflicted when there’s only ever been one boy, one plain vanilla boy. Louis _had_ been paying less attention to how he looked and he _had_ put on some weight, he _had_ been obnoxious and annoying at times, and his love had issues with controlling his anger.

Louis had decided to make some changes in his lifestyle, just tiny ones, to meet his boy’s standards again. He’d agreed to spice up their sex life and easily sunk in the obedient role, tried to be just a little bit sweeter for his hardworking man. He told himself that if he just kept doing that, they’d be alright.

But it wasn’t enough, it was never enough for the one that had once thought Louis was the greatest person walking the face of the earth. He had to eat less, sport more frequent, weigh less, be nicer, be smarter, be better. He deserved the punches and harsh words, because he was wasting his boyfriend’s life with being so irritating. He was lucky to still have him, he needed to be taught what was unwanted behaviour. Louis had never known loving someone was so hard.

Harry had been Louis’ safe haven, even though the boy probably hadn’t known at the time, being a fragile thirteen years old. He’d go over there whenever his lover wasn’t home, had a copy of the key to their front and back door. He went there to relax, to be able to laugh and to not worry so much.

Somewhere along the line Harry had noticed Louis had become more distressed, and Louis had just explained it was exhausting to put a bit more effort in his relationship, but that it would work out in the end. Harry had listened patiently and looked at him with awe, as he always seemed to do when Louis was handing out life wisdoms for free.

It didn’t take long for Harry to notice the physical abuse, the bruises and cuts, didn’t take long to call Louis out on it. Louis could only tell he’d been clumsy so many times, he could only lie to Harry so many times, Harry only believed his covers so many times. So Louis gently tried to explain him the truth: that he had been lazy or annoying and that it was okay, because he’d learned from it, he would try to not do it again. The young boy had told him he thought relationships were complicated, Louis had agreed.

It hadn’t been hard to be around Harry, because Harry knew when he shouldn’t ask questions and Harry believed Louis when he said it was all okay. Harry’s parents had been more difficult, and Louis tried to hide from them as much as possible. They did see him quite a few times, entering the house with bruises or a limp, but Louis was never around long enough to see their worried stares.

Sometimes, Louis would be kicked out of the house at night after a fight, and he would creep in bed with Harry. Sometimes, he’d ask Harry to help him clean up his cuts, ask him to look if his teeth hadn’t chipped, ask him to hold him though his stomach aches- they were hunger pains, but he didn’t tell Harry that.

_He’s just been talking about you a lot lately, says he misses you quite a bit..._

Harry. Harry’s the reason Louis got out, the reason Louis was enjoying his life again. Harry’s probably the reason Louis was still alive.

Louis sighed wistfully and slumped a bit behind the steering wheel, hands restlessly tapping a beat on it. He still remembered the conversation as if it had been two days ago, still remembered how nervous Harry had been to call him out on it.

“My mother told me t-No, I mean...I’m worried, Louis, about you.” Louis had felt his stomach clench, had been more scared of losing Harry than anything else. He had tried to explain to Harry that it was how relationships sometimes worked, and that they did really love each other, had always loved each other. “It can’t always be like movies, Hazza.” He had spoken gently, seeing the confusion in the younger boy’s eyes. He’d been able to convince Harry eventually, but not more than three days after that, Harry’s parents had taken matters into their own hands and had sat Louis down for a good talk.

That talk had finally woken Louis up from the brainwashed situation he’d been in, it had finally made him spill the tears he’d been holding back for about a year then. It had made him decide to break up with the man that looked nothing like the man he’d fallen for.

Harry’s step dad had joined him, to make sure the conversation could be held without any abuse, and it all went rather quick after that. The man barely argued, just upped and left within the hour.  

It hadn’t taken long for Louis to put the house for sale, everything in there reminded him of him. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions and decisions, still was whenever Louis looked back on it, and within a month he had moved to London to reevaluate his life. The goodbye had been heartbreakingly emotional, especially when the time came to say goodbye to Harry. “We’ll call right? We’ll still be friends, right?” Louis had felt overwhelmed, because he’d wanted a clean cut. A cut that would go through all the connections, but standing there in front of Harry made him doubt.

Anne had stepped in, seeing Louis was struggling to keep himself to his promises. She had known about it, had helped him get a picture of what to do with his future and she had supported him in his decision to avoid contact. “Harry, darling, you can’t blame him if he stops calling, okay? He’s trying to move on, and we’re only there to be a part of his life if he wants us to.” She’d spoken, wiping away her son’s tears. Harry had nodded solemnly, and had dropped it then, going in for one last hug before standing aside with his parents.  

_He’s really changed, Louis, he’s not how he used to be anymore..._

When Louis saw the town doom up in front of him, he had to stop his car at the side of the road, just to focus on his breathing for a while. He had promised himself to never return, but frankly, Harry had always been an exception for everything. He had been the only one who could touch him without triggering something, without making him flinch. He had been the one Louis had felt comfortable with the longest, were it about his stomach or his ears, Harry had been the only one allowed to see him on bad days. Harry was the reason Louis survived, and Louis was willing to do anything to return the favour.

He kept his eyes solely on the road, not letting them wander to the buildings he used to know, the streets he used to walk on. He wondered how Harry had changed, the unknown answer ominous. Harry was the sweetest kid Louis ever had the pleasure of knowing, so trustworthy, funny and loyal. It pained Louis to think of all the ways he could’ve changed, from being a stuck up twat to a rebellious punk. Harry was supposed to stay Harry. Louis hoped he could try to get him back.

The thought had passed him, the possibility that Harry had enrolled himself in an abusive relationship, especially because he was seventeen now, the same age as him at the time. But he could hardly really believe that. Anne and Robin would´ve known if Harry was being mistreated, even if Harry did his best to hide it. They knew about Louis when it was going on, surely they would recognise the signs if they were present with their own child.

 

\-- 

 

Saying he hadn’t expected it to be so hard was a lie, he had thought it would be exactly as hard as it was, seeing his old house next to Harry’s. There was a foreign car in the driveway, different curtains behind the windows. The garden was renovated and the doors and windows were painted in a different colour. It wasn’t at all the house he had lived in for a short year only, but it still had impact on him in ways he wasn’t ready to admit.

He couldn’t recall much of the whole selling process, and sitting in the car there he suddenly wondered if he ever bothered to check for marks of their existence before putting it up for sale. Did he fix the holes in the walls? Had he checked for any specks of blood on the carpet? Did he throw out the bed, the one where you could clearly see the grooves on the posts from handcuffs? As much as he wanted, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

His breath caught as he saw the family that lived there through the kitchen window, happily together around the table as they probably chatted about their day. They didn’t know what had gone on before them. Maybe that darling little girl slept in the workout room, the one where he pushed and pushed until he broke himself, just to be slimmer. Maybe her bigger brother slept in the room he had to sleep in when he was too insufferable for his boyfriend. Their parents most likely slept in the master bedroom, Louis wondered if it still smelled of sweat, sex and tears. He wondered if there were still pieces of furniture from him in that house, or if they renovated the whole thing. Wondered if they could feel no one had ever really _lived_ in there before them. 

He gasped as he heard a noise, head whipping up to see Anne tapping the window at the passenger’s side of his car, smiling softly at him. He only noticed how hard he was shaking when he reached over to open the door for her, tried to calm himself as she clambered in. “Hi.” He stuttered, checking in the rear-view mirror if his eyes were puffy. “Are you okay being here Louis? It’s okay if you want to go home, he doesn’t know you’re here.” Anne spoke sweetly, her voice still the same. Anne hadn’t changed one bit, she was still the second mother that understood him so well. Her skin was a little bit more wrinkly, but she was still as beautiful as Louis remembered her to be.

“No- I’m obviously not really okay, but I’m not leaving.” He said, huffing at his stupid body that was still pumped up with adrenaline and fear. He felt a great sense of calmness flooding through him as Anne laid her hand on his, squeezing softly. “Come inside then, I’ll make you a cuppa.” Louis smiled gratefully, fetching his bag from the backseat and following Anne to the house. He forced his eyes down, not even glancing at the house beside them, its presence was terrifying enough.

 

The Styles’ residence was almost exactly as Louis remembered. Anne smiled at him as he looked around, leaving him alone to fix some tea in the kitchen. The hall was still the same, but Louis could tell they’d repainted the walls. He gaped at the picture frames for a bit, remembering. Back then, it hadn’t been too weird that there were pictures of him scattered through the home- Louis was always where Harry was- but now it felt strange. They hadn’t forgotten about him, and although he hadn’t forgotten about them either, he didn’t have any pictures of them. He felt guilty for still meaning something to them, for continuing to be a part of their lives even though he hadn’t wanted to be anymore.

They had switched around the furniture in the living room, the television on the other side of the room and the comfy chairs and couch arranged differently. Louis even noticed they’d gotten different pillows on the couch, plucking at one half-heartedly as he sat on the couch and just looked. There were a few new pictures in the living room, photos of things that had happened in the past three years, things Louis had missed. Gemma had graduated from Uni and they’d had a few family get-togethers, pictures with everybody there. Louis was careful to lift one up, searching for the four faces he knew. He recognised a few aunts and uncles vaguely and quickly pointed out Anne, Robin, Gemma and Harry on the left side of the framed picture.

Louis reasoned it must’ve been a picture from last year, seeing how much Harry had grown since Louis’d last seen him. He had now reached the awkward age of seventeen, but puberty had clearly treated him well. Louis could still detect a little bit of baby fat, but the new haircut and fashion sense suited him. He looked like himself, how Louis had imagined him to look like. He didn’t turn punk or posh (at least not drastically) and he didn’t have any piercings or tattoos (in sight). Louis frowned slightly as he trailed a finger over the grinning face, _what is going on with you?_

“Here’s your tea.” Anne smiled as she saw Louis stare at the picture, putting the mug on the table in front of him. He took it and smiled kindly, waiting for her to be settled next to him on the couch. “You’ve grown up, Lou.” She smiled as she looked at him. “Time treated you well...finally got that scruff going on you wanted.” They both chuckled at that, remembering how dramatically angry Louis could get at his own chin for not growing any hairs yet. He always wanted to be so much more grown up than he was.

“You made the right decision with leaving.” Louis didn’t react to that, because he didn’t feel that way at all in that moment. Louis opened his mouth to counter that he shouldn’t have broken all contact with them, because it hadn’t done anyone well, but Anne talked before he could. “You did the right thing, Louis. Maybe you can’t remember why anymore, but back then you’d wanted a clean cut and that’s what you got. For once you chose for yourself and stuck to that, and I reckon that was the first step of recovery.” Louis closed his mouth again, taking a sip of his tea instead.     

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to you for a bit first.” Her voice was very subdued and gentle, it brought back so many memories it was a bit overwhelming for Louis. “I don’t know how it’s going to go when you see Harry, whether or not I will really be able to sit and chat with you more than this once.” Louis nodded, it pained him that he understood. That he knew that he was like a son to her and that she just wanted to know how he was doing. He felt guilty for never calling, even though he knew no one blamed him. “Did you ever seek help?” Anne asked, jostling Louis from his thoughts. “I found an online support group, that really helped.” Louis answered, wriggling back to sit more comfortably. “Good, good...” Anne nodded to herself, the smile not really reaching much more than the corners of her lips.

The silence was telling, both of them knew the subject was going to change by whomever broke it and both knew what the subject would change to. “What’s going on, Anne?” Louis asked softly, hands wrapped around the warm mug. “What happened with Harry?”

Anne took a steadied breath and grimaced. “People say we’re overreacting, because nobody can see it. He’s not so different for outsiders, but to us it’s obvious.” She talked softly, voice laced with many emotions. Louis could virtually feel the worries of the mother. “Anne, you talk about it as if I know what’s going on.” He reminded her gently, smiling reassuringly when he saw her face contort a bit. “Sorry, I forgot...it’s as if you never left at all..” She murmured the last part quietly, to herself, but Louis caught it anyway. He knew she didn’t mean to hurt him with that, that she was just saying what was on her mind, but it didn’t make the sting any less painful.

“It’s okay, just talk to me.” Louis just wanted to know so he could stop worrying about not knowing, so he didn’t have to worry about the things that weren’t going on. He thought every possible scenario had swum through his mind at some point, but Anne proved him wrong. Her story disempowered all his speculations and left him with questions and worries, just like Anne, Robin and Gemma.

“He’s quiet.” She’d said. “He does nothing, as if he’s grounded for life. Only leaves for school or family events.”

 And it went on.

“He rarely talks, never leaves his room if it isn’t necessary.”

And it didn’t make any sense.

“He doesn’t have any friends, I don’t think. At least he never meets them outside of school.”

Harry was so joyful and happy, someone anybody could be friends with. Harry was really nice and kind and even a bit cheeky, it contradicted everything Anne said.

“I can see he’s scared, can see he’s hurting, but he never talks. Says he’s okay.”

“And you think he will talk to me?” Louis asked uncertainly.

“I hope so.”

 

 --

 

He still had the same room, same door. It wasn’t really weird, because it had only been three years, but Louis felt as if he was walking in a memory, in a museum. He was too old, didn’t fit the scene anymore. He was only supposed to be that nervous about opening Harry’s bedroom door when he was seventeen or eighteen. Now he was twenty-one and he didn’t belong there. He vaguely wondered what would meet his eyes once he’d opened that door, if there would be a thirteen year old Harry smiling back at him, asking him how he was doing. He knew he wouldn’t, but he maybe would’ve liked that better than the sight that did meet his eyes. 

Louis didn’t pay any attention to the room, as he had done with the rest of the house. Didn’t try to see if Harry’s posters had been removed (probably) or if his desk still looked the same (also very probable). All he saw was the small bed with the blue sheets and Harry lying there, staring blankly into space. He had knocked on the door, but apparently it hadn’t evoked any reaction from Harry. For a brief second, Louis feared he was dead, but then his head snapped up and his eyes zeroed in on him.

 

That was the first time Harry thought he really had gone crazy. _Now you’ve done it, you’re on your way to the mad house, good job._ He blinked lazily a few times, frowning a bit at the figment of his imagination. He lifted his legs, setting them down on the carpet firmly, before sitting upright and glancing up to check if the hallucination was over yet. It wasn’t, so he stood and walked over to it, just to look a bit closer. He was pretty proud of his brain, that it placed a Louis in front of him that actually looked three years older. He finally got that scruff going on he was always moaning about. He nodded approvingly and vaguely wondered if he had taken any drugs without even noticing.

“Hey Haz.” Louis tried carefully, staring at the hollow shell of a boy that stood in front of him, looking back at him dopily. “What do you know, it talks.” He murmured to himself, eyes running up and down Louis’ body to take everything in. “Of course I talk, it’s really me, Harry.” Louis voice came out a bit thick, wondering what was going to happen. Something changed in Harry’s face the moment he realised he wasn’t talking to himself, that he was talking to Louis. The Louis that he was supposed to never see again, the Louis that left three years ago to move on. He was real, in front of him, talking, breathing, being. The Louis that ruined him.

Louis felt his heart thump in his chest as Harry face contorted into sheer anger and he had just enough time to anticipate the punch before it came. Luckily, Harry didn’t aim for his face, fist drumming on Louis’ chest instead. He pushed him back a step with the impact, stumbled after him. The two boys looked at each other for a moment, awaiting what would happen, before Harry punched again. And again. His fists were beating down on Louis’ chest mercilessly. Louis stood there and took it. He didn’t know what was happening or why, but if Harry felt he needed this, Louis would let him.

The punches weren’t meant to kill him, he wasn’t trying to fight Louis to the ground, he just needed to let out all the anger he’d felt for the past three years. It was a raw emotion, nested so deep inside him, it surprised neither of them Harry started crying within the minute. He became vocal then too, voice high and hoarse as he screeched at Louis. “You ruined me!” He was slumping closer and closer to Louis’ chest, head in the crook of his neck as he kept pounding and screaming. He was pushing him away while trying to be closer to him at the same time. Louis was the person he needed to let his anger out on, but also the person he needed to lean on, the person he needed to cry with.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry when he noticed to punches growing weaker, the body slumping closer, the throat becoming scratchy and raw. “No!” Harry screamed, but he didn’t move away, didn’t push Louis away, only sunk into the embrace even though he was still raining punches down on Louis’ body. He was wrestling Louis’ grip, limbs flailing, but not trying to get out of it. Louis held him loose enough for him to escape, but he didn’t. And then the punches subsided and the yelling grew tired and softer and he cried into Louis’ shirt. He was sobbing, gasping for air, body relying on Louis while one fist still lifted every now and then to stomp, albeit weakly.     

Not unlike the previous times someone had hurt him, Louis instantly felt guilty. Different this time was that he’d really done something wrong. Harry wouldn’t be mad at him for three long years for something that wasn’t true, something that didn’t root somewhere deep down. Louis wanted to tear himself into little pieces for making Harry feel the way he felt. For letting Harry have to deal with so much anger, so much pain, and all of it unresolved. He didn’t know what he had done, but he had, as Harry said, ruined him, and couldn’t forgive himself for that.

He carefully slunk down the wall when he felt Harry’s knees buckle, taking Harry down with him. His shirt was soaked through with tears and snot and his chest hurt when he breathed but Louis didn’t mind it. His focus was on Harry, who was a weak mess in his arms, slowly drifting to a slumber that bordered on unconsciousness, every last bit of energy and emotion drained from his fragile body. After a while of silence, Louis got up and carefully placed Harry back in his bed. He grabbed a tissue to tidy up his face a little bit, before sneaking through the hallway to the bathroom to check on himself. His chest wasn’t as black and blue as he had expected, Harry’s blows all weakened by his tears. He took two paracetamols and drank a glass of water afterwards, giving himself a bit of time to get the adrenaline from his system.

“What happened? Do we need to worry?” Louis turned to see both Anne and Robin. Robin went to pull him in for a hug, but Louis winced and offered a hand instead.

“Well, apparently he was very angry at somebody, most probably me, and he needed to get it all out. He’s asleep now, we’ll see what happens in the morning.” He explained, smiling gratefully as they handed him his bag.

“It’s more than we ever got out of him.” Anne said, but Louis could see her swallow back the apologies. He knew she was sorry for Louis having to take the hits, for calling him and bringing him back here. He smiled at her, because she knew he didn’t want to hear that.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad he didn’t take it out on someone who didn’t deserve it.”

“Are you okay?” Anne asked, and Louis was glad she couldn’t see his chest.

“I’m not leaving until we both are.”

Louis changed into some nightwear, the fabric a bit lighter to rest against his chest, and went back to Harry’s room. He looked at him for a few long moments, let himself take in the room (the posters had come down from the wall but had been replaced with new ones and the desk was still as messy as ever) and closed the curtains before he snuggled in beside him. Harry’s sleeping form immediately clung to him, a deep frown etched into his forehead as he whimpered into Louis’ neck softly. Louis carted his hand through the longer curls, still as soft as always, and pressed a kiss to his temple before falling asleep too.

 

\--

 

It probably was the most unceremonious way of waking up for Louis, and he’d had his fair shares of weird risings. He woke up as if he had been falling, the feeling you mostly get right _before_ falling asleep. He jumped a bit, disoriented as he tried to recognise shapes and surroundings. Just as he remembered where he was and wondered where Harry had gone, there was another heavy thud against his head. Louis spluttered a bit, looking up and squinting against the daylight. Harry was straddling his hips, pillow raised high above his head, wearing the same expression he had the day before: angry and confused.

The pillow slammed against his head again and all Louis could think was _Oh dear Harry, what have I done?_ and a little bit of _Thank god pillows are soft._ Louis inhaled as the pillow descended to his face again, prepared for the hit. But the pillow stayed in place longer, Harry pushing it down firmer, as if he was trying to suffocate him. Louis’ heartbeat sped up, arms reaching out for Harry to push him off. Louis heard him gasp loudly as he did and looked up at him. Harry was crying again and his eyes were trained on Louis’ chest, where his v-neck had ridden low and revealed the bruises. Harry let the pillow fall, going to scramble off of the bed in panic. Louis reached out for him and pulled him to his chest instead, holding him as close as he could despite the aching.

“I’m sorry, I’m _so, so_ sorry.” Harry sobbed, eyes still looking at the blue and purple spots. “Hey, it’s okay.” Louis spoke calmly, guiding Harry to lie beside him as he rolled onto his side. He pushed his hair from his face and waited for Harry to calm down a bit again, catching his eyes and holding the contact. “Harry, Haz, listen to me please.” Harry sniffled a bit, swallowing thickly, but quieted down. “You’re angry, yeah? Angry and probably also mad and confused and sad altogether, right?” Harry just bit down on his lip, waiting for Louis to continue. “I want you to do everything, _anything_ that you think will make you feel better, okay? Anything. I won’t leave until you feel okay again, unless you want me to.”

Harry wanted to interfere, but one look from Louis prevented that. “Just...” Louis added on second thought. “Just don’t try to kill me, okay? You don’t want to kill me, right?” Louis could take hits, he could take punches, but the suffocating moment had been too scary. “ _God_ no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what happened, I just-” “Shh, shut up Haz. It’s fine.” Louis smiled gently, couldn’t really help it. He felt so fond, being with Harry again, seeing how he hadn’t changed that much at all. He was still there, just deeper under the surface. “Now, do you want breakfast?”

 

Louis ended up going downstairs to fix them both breakfast, because Harry didn’t like to worry his mother with his puffy eyes and hoarse voice. He knew she always worried about him when she saw him in a bad state, Louis didn’t say Anne worried about him all the time.

That time, Louis didn’t let himself think about guilt or other things as he easily bustled around in the kitchen, blindly reaching for everything he needed. He just let it comfort him, let it relax him, gave himself a moment to stop thinking about everything. He carefully balanced the plates and cuppas up the stairs, pushing the door open with his hip.

 

Harry had dressed himself and was sitting behind his desk, doing something on his laptop. He looked up at Louis’s entrance and took one plate out of his hands. “I could get used to this...” He hummed, biting into the sandwich with a pleased grin stretched around his lips. Louis snorted. “Don’t.”

And it was easy, as easy as it had been three years ago, just Harry and Louis. Louis decided to keep it that way a bit longer, just letting it be easy for a while. No guilt, no hurt, no anger, just how it used to be. They both knew it couldn’t stay that way, but they rather prolonged for a little while. So he let Harry do some coursework as he updated his mates in London on his situation.

Some of them knew about Harry, bits and pieces. Niall knew that he was Louis’ best friend, and because he was Niall, he never asked any further. Louis figured Niall sensed how close Harry was to his core, and he never pried or tried to get him emotional. Niall wasn’t like that.

Liam knew a bit more, but that’s a given, Louis can’t help but talk when Liam is around. He was there when Louis was still a recovering victim and the two of them talked for hours every night about everything there was to talk about. Of course Harry came up a lot. Louis suspected Liam told Zayn a lot, judging by his looks and behaviour, but Louis couldn’t say he minded. 

They knew he’d gone to Harry, but only Liam really knew how much of a deal it was to return. He’d been texting Louis throughout the day and Louis finally took the time to reply.

 

When he looked up, Harry’d twisted around in his desk chair and was looking at him with a pensive stare. Louis quirked the corners of his lip up swiftly, putting his phone aside. “’S time for that talk, don’t you think?”

They both didn’t want to, a small part of them wanting to pretend nothing ever happened and just move on, but the bigger part knew they had to get this over with. Harry crawled onto the bed next to him, a decent amount of space between them, and stared ahead silently. Louis lolled his head to the side, taking in Harry’s profile as he sighed softly. “What’s going on, Haz?”

Harry didn’t respond, shrugged a bit helplessly. He had no idea where to start, didn’t even really know what he wanted to tell Louis. Louis gathered that much. “I’m sorry that we never spoke, Harry, but to me you still mean almost everything. You can still tell me anything, at least if you feel like that’s true..” Louis was careful not to push Harry into a direction, not to just assume everything would be like it had been between them, but it was hard because nothing had changed for Louis and he didn’t know if anything had for Harry. Harry shrugged again, but nodded a bit. Louis didn’t really know what that meant, but didn’t dig deeper into it.

“Harry, Anne was the person that helped me decide what I wanted and no one respected my wish for a clean cut more than she did, not even me. So I know she would never call me to come back if there wasn’t something going on, something severe. So why did she?” Harry lifted his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knee. “I don’t know why she called you, Lou.” He said softly. Louis’ eyebrows furrowed and he scooted closer. “Because she’s worried, Haz, and because you recently said you missed me.” Harry frowned back at him. “I never said that.”

The way Harry was distancing himself didn’t go unnoticed by Louis. He saw how he was zeroing in on meaningless details to avoid talking about the elephant in the room. “Do you want me to leave, then?” He asked challengingly, eyeing Harry closely. “No don’t leave me.”  The choice of words, combined with Harry’s voice that had suddenly turned fragile, cut straight through Louis. He slunk even closer and wrapped his arms around Harry. “Hey, I won’t leave you. I’m sorry. Just talk to me, please.” He murmured into his curls. They were at an awkward length, summing up Harry’s teenage body perfectly.

Harry’s shoulder dug into Louis’ chest as he shrugged yet again. He was at such a loss. He’d spent months trying to process everything that had happened, it took him more than a year to find out why he was so different from everyone else, took him so much time to figure out the cause. And now Louis was there, right next to him, asking him to explain, and he didn’t know how to. All he could do was shrug and try to formulate sentences in his head that could lead up to what he wanted to say. He wanted to cry and be held by Louis and wait for him to feel okay again, but he knew that wasn’t the solution. Louis had to know, not only because he was part of the cause, but because he was the only one Harry would allow to help him.

“Do you- No...fuck.” Harry huffed out a breath, slumping further. He took a steadying breath before straightening his back again, looking at Louis who was looking back at him carefully, but expectant.

“What am I to you, Lou? What did I mean to you back then?” Finally, something had come out, maybe (definitely) not what he had though to say and probably (definitely) way too cryptic for Louis to understand immediately, but he had said something at last. Louis was looking at him calculatingly, trying to grasp where Harry was going or what he wanted him to answer.

Suddenly, Louis’ eyes widened. His mouth fell ajar and a gasp left him. “Haz..did you- do you-” Now it was time for Harry’s eyes to widen. “No!” He spluttered. “No, not at all! Don’t go making any assumptions based on nothing Lou, just answer me.” He chided, pushing at Louis’ shoulder weakly. Louis calmed down a bit, but still asked. “So you haven’t had a crush on me then? Now? At any point in time?” He asked, a bit disturbed by the idea of it, of having to reject Harry. “No, Lou, don’t flatter yourself.” Harry huffed again, rolling his eyes at him. Louis tried to detect anything in Harry’s demeanour that could point out the opposite, but didn’t find any. “Okay, okay.” He breathed to himself, focusing on the question at hand.

“...What you meant to me is still what you mean to me now. I’ve told you, you’re practically everything to me.” Louis explained, curious and worried once again. Harry’s brows furrowed, still not satisfied by the answer. “Like a...” He trailed off, meaning for Louis to end his sentence. “Like a what, Haz?” Louis frowned back at him, not following. Harry groaned exasperatedly. “I don’t know, I’m asking you! What am I to you?” “You’re my best friend!” Louis exclaimed hastily, hoping to finally say what Harry’d been wanting to hear. A silence fell where Harry took in Louis’ words and tried to process them. He stared at Louis for a long time, trying to decipher if Louis had really meant that, if they really hadn’t been on the same wavelength for all those years.

“Best friend?” Louis nodded carefully, noticing (to his dismay) that it still wasn’t what Harry had wanted to hear. “I’m- Even back then, I was your best friend?” “Yeah?” Louis tried, confused as to why it was such a big deal. Harry had said he wasn’t in love with Louis, then why wasn’t best friends what he wanted them to be? Had Louis not been a best friend to Harry? Had he really not seen him that way? “I... _Louis_.” Harry sighed, bordering on a mewl. He rested his head against the wall with a groan. “God , that explains so much...” He murmured to himself quietly.

Louis’ frown only deepened and he sat upright, turning to really look at Harry. “What do you mean Harry? Come on, tell me, _please_.” Harry rubbed a hand over his face before meeting Louis’ eyes. He let out another deep sigh and pursed his lips. “I just didn’t expect that, sorry.” Louis huffed and raised his eyebrows. “Oh no, you’re not dropping it. You’re not getting away so easily.” He chided. As he continued, his tone dropped to a softer one because he never really could be mad at Harry. “Come on. You’re so close, just tell me now.” He begged, trying to coax Harry into talking with small comforting touches where he knew Harry couldn’t resist.

As his finger was curling around a short lock of hair and his other hand was gently trailing up and down Harry’s knee, the younger boy’s defenses finally crumbled down after being damaged by Louis and his own doubts for the past day. Louis knew him well, it _had_ been the soft hand caressing him and the other one gently scratching his scalp that had caused Harry to lay his head on Louis’ shoulder and speak up.

“I think of you as my big brother, Lou, always have...”

And he felt stupid, just as stupid as he had thought he’d feel when he would tell Louis, but he hoped Louis wouldn’t treat him like he was. He never used to.

See, Harry felt immensely stupid for being so affected by something that never happened to him. Louis had been the one in the abusive relationship and Louis had been the one being hurt, both physically and emotionally, but Louis had recovered. Louis had been through hell, but he had pushed through and had become a beautiful, strong and independent _man_ , while Harry was crying and whining and over all acting like such a _child_. He felt horrible for letting everything come up to the point where Louis was called to come back to a place he feared to help Harry feel better about something that he didn’t even have the right to feel bad about.

Harry was squeezing his eyes closed as he waited for Louis’ reaction, the hands having stopped their movements the moment Harry had spoken. He wondered if Louis got what he was trying to say with those words, hoped that he did so he wouldn’t have to go into detail.

Louis did get what Harry was saying, judging by the way his stomach had plunged down and his jaw had fallen open. Brother... Harry had seen him as his brother, his big brother. He had looked up to him as his _big brother_ , had listened to him in awe and had aspired to be like him. He’d seen his _big brother_ with bruises and cuts, limping into his room, had heard him tell stories about how his boyfriend had treated him and had listened to his every word.

How could he have been so blind? He did always feel like a son to Anne and Robin, appreciated that they saw him like that, too, but he never once thought about being a brother to Harry. How could he have been so stupid and think that he could have an equal relationship with a thirteen-year-old? Looking back, Louis feels so dumb.

Louis had thought Harry was a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on, a safe haven. A little brother shouldn’t have been any of those things. If Louis had known, he would’ve hid the cuts from him, wouldn’t have told him what had been done to him, wouldn’t have let him see a love as messed up as his. He would’ve been an example, someone Harry could learn and grow from, someone who would tell him what to do and what not to. Most importantly, someone to tell him not to let himself be treated like Louis had allowed his boyfriend to do, to tell him to set up standards and to say no.

Louis tried to look back at that year and picture one of his sisters in Harry’s place and he’s filled with regret. He thinks of himself as a great brother to his sisters, but he would never put them through what Harry’d been put through. He could smack himself for forgetting how young Harry was, only _thirteen years old_. That’s no age to be a witness of what Harry had seen and heard. He’d been so naive, seeing Harry as a friend, an equal, someone who could keep him together while he was falling apart. You don’t let your little brother watch you break and ask of him to put all your little pieces back together.

 

While Harry’s half expecting an angry rant, telling him that he’s being an insufferable puss and a whiny diva for having Louis come back for a shitty problem as his, or a cold shoulder for putting blame on Louis and acting like the victim himself, Louis’ overcome with guilt and a great wish to turn back time. He’d go through that year of pain again if only he could do things right with Harry that time, if only he could protect him from what he’s been through now. He’d have never left Harry if he’d looked at him as a brother, too.

Harry carefully moved away from Louis to look at him when he felt a tear hit his head. Had he made Louis that angry? Had he remembered him of his year here and called up all the nasty memories? Had he disappointed him? He flinched when Louis reached for him, but decided that he could take a punch from Louis, too. Louis had done the same for him, after all. But Louis didn’t punch him, no, he pulled him in for the tightest hug he’d had in years, the last time probably being when Louis left. Harry didn’t know what was going on, if he was even allowed to hold Louis in return, so he just stayed rigid and felt the tears fall onto him from where they left Louis’ face.

Louis rocked them back and forth softly and a thought crept to the front of Harry’s mind. Maybe Louis was sad for him. Maybe he wasn’t angry or disappointed, maybe he didn’t think Harry was as stupid as he himself thought he was. Maybe Louis felt sorry for Harry and wanted him to feel okay. The thought made everything inside Harry twist up, because he hadn’t taken himself or what was going on with him seriously for so long, hadn’t cried about it for so long it felt foreign.  
Maybe it hadn’t been him in the abusive relationship, but he _had_ been affected by it and had to figure it out by himself, without his big brother there to help him out.

He suddenly remembered how utterly lost he’d felt before he’d turned so cold, how much he’d needed Louis to help him figure it out, how much he’d missed him.

Harry figured it wouldn’t be long before he’d be crying too if Louis kept it up.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Haz.”

And there he went. He finally wrapped his arms around Louis and _cried_. They cried together for so long, barely audible or intelligible babbles flowing back and forth between them. Apologies, soothing and more apologies on Louis’ part, while Harry was trying to utter out an explanation of how he felt and how he missed Louis.           

That’s how Anne found them a little while later, when she didn’t get a response after calling for dinner. She’d made the boys two plates and had decided to bring the food up to them so they could eat in Harry’s room, but when she saw the two boys entangled on the bed, she put the plates down and wrapped her arms around her two sons. They had both latched onto her like helpless small animals, pulling on her heartstrings with their tears.

They were both apologising to her profusely and if they had been a decade younger she would’ve guessed they broke an expensive vase. But they weren’t. They were seventeen and twenty-one and their reason to be sorry had to be more serious than that. “Hey now, calm down for me. You’re working yourselves up way too much.” She cooed, wiping at Harry’s curls that stuck to his head clammy with tears. “It’s okay, I’m not mad at either one of you. I couldn’t and you both know that.” That coaxed a sobbing laugh out of Louis and he slowly detached himself from Anne, wiping at his face and catching his breath again. He hadn’t cried like that since the conversation he’d had with Anne and her husband all those years ago, when they told him he wasn’t being treated right. 

“I really am sorry, Anne.” He said, calmer this time. His voice was a bit hoarse, but there weren’t any tears escaping anymore. “I never should’ve left.” Anne frowned at him. “Louis we’ve talked about this just yesterday.” She reprimanded. “No, you don’t understand.” Louis countered. “It was selfish and cruel of me to hurt your son so much with my problems and then do nothing about it. If I would’ve known-” “But you didn’t.” Harry spoke up from where he was still buried in his mother’s side. 

Louis faltered at that and Harry sat up straighter. “Mom, I want to apologise for what I put you through, for closing down as I did. But I don’t want to stay in that place, I want to get out of it.” He focused on Louis now. “What’s in the past is in the past, okay?” Louis couldn’t do more that nod numbly and wait where Harry was going. “I just- Can you just _help_ me Lou? Please?” He begged softly, bottom lip involuntarily wobbling a bit. “Of course, Haz, of course.” Louis said quickly, grabbing Harry’s hand tight in his.

Anne rubbed them both on their heads, pulling them back in a hug. “Look at you two, my gorgeous boys.” She mused, a weight lifted from her chest, allowing her to breathe.  

 

That evening, Louis and Harry joined for dinner downstairs and they talked as if it was one of Louis’ frequent visits. Harry ate and laughed and talked and it was more than his parents could’ve ever hoped for. Louis was glad to find out everything stung a little bit less, it felt just as easy as it always had been. He still struggled with his mixed feelings, because whenever he listened to things that had happened the past few years he wished he could’ve been there, but he managed to push those feelings away for the better part of the night. 

Louis spoke about his own life, about his friends and work and how he got back in touch with his family. When he moved, he’d almost forgot to mention it to his mother, had almost forgot to update her on his major life change because he hadn’t told her about anything that had happened in his life that year –not the truth, at least. Luckily, Jay never blamed her son, knew he was just confused and too much was happening at the same time, but it took a little bit of time for Louis to be as close with her as he used to, just because he wasn’t used to sharing things with his mother anymore.

He now worked at the local theatre, close to his boyhood dream of being on stage himself. He sold tickets, cleaned up the place and did all the other things needed around there from switching the posters to new movies and shows to refilling the popcorn machine. He got paid too much because Zayn’s father liked him (took pity on him) and Louis learned after two pay-checks not to try and give it back anymore. Zayn worked there too on peak days, but spent the majority of his time on school and art. That’s how they paid the rent of their shared flat; a (still very meagre) wage and the occasional sold painting. It was perfect.

 

Louis realised belatedly that Harry had become more and more withdrawn as the evening progressed. Contrary to his parents, who were beaming to hear how well Louis was doing, Harry had stopped commenting a while ago. When Louis looked over at him he saw Harry staring into space with a pensive and contorted look. He didn’t seem to notice the conversation had stopped, stuck in his own head. When Louis looked back to Anne, she’s already looking at him, smiling and nodding softly to answer the question spelled out on his face.

“Hazza, c’mon let’s get upstairs.” Louis spoke loudly, disturbing Harry from wherever he was with his head. He jerked up, looking around and connecting to the current situation again. “Huh? What time is it?” He muttered, straining to find a clock to tell him. “Does it matter?” Louis gasped, standing up and smacking Harry’s thigh. “I said let’s get upstairs, since when’s that not good enough for you, huh?” He scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at him. Harry scrambled up and said goodnight to his parents, earning a grin from Louis. “That’s my boy.” He muttered, slinging an arm around him as they trailed up the stairs. He looked back to bid his own goodnight to Anne and Robin, stomach clenching at the worried looks they wore. It was hard to remember that even though Harry was better than before, he wasn’t okay yet.

 

 

“Hey Haz,” Louis called from where he was fluffing the pillow on his mattress. Robin had moved it from the guestroom to Harry’s earlier, and Louis was happy he could talk with Harry until they’d fall asleep. “What?” Came Harry’s reply, muffled around his toothbrush. “Do you still want me as your brother?” Louis asked a bit softer. Harry head appeared around the corner, wearing a frown and a toothpaste-moustache. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, thoroughly confused.

Louis shrugged a bit. “Just because I didn’t really do a swell job the past few years.” He reasoned. Harry rolled his eyes. “We weren’t going to talk about the past anymore, Lou.” He sighed, walking back to rinse. “Yeah, okay.” Louis agreed, tucking himself underneath the warm comforter. Harry hit the light and climbed over him to get in his own bed, rustling a bit before finding a way to be comfortable. “I swear I’m a good brother when I know it.” Louis spoke. “Just ask one of my sisters.” Harry turned his head to look for Louis’ form in the dark. “I’m sure you are Lou, not a doubt.”

Louis smiled a bit, staring up at the ceiling. “So, Harry,” He started again, waiting for a slow hum before continuing. “What exactly do you need my help with? In what way has everything that happened affected you?” Harry fell silent, stomach plummeting a bit when the conversation turned back to that topic. He plucked a bit at the sheets, frustrated that his mind was blank yet again. He didn’t want to tell Louis, but yet he did.

He felt like such a mess, an idiotic infant. He wished he could be like Louis and learn to move on, but he honestly didn’t know how to think differently anymore. “Guess I just don’t really bother anymore...” Harry mumbled, shrugging to himself. Louis only heard the sheets rustling a bit, a short huff leaving Harry’s lips in frustration. “Bother with what, H?” He asked, turning his head to see the white of Harry’s eyes, figuring he was staring straight ahead, as he had been doing when Louis first entered his room.

“With people.” Harry answered, a monotonous mumble into the darkness. “Because you’re afraid they’ll all hurt you?” Louis asked, trying to figure out the connection between the abusive relationship and the choice of solitude. Harry hadn’t really expected him to guess it right away, faltering a bit before confirming. “I guess...” He muttered. “I know it’s stupid but...I don’t know...”

Louis reached up to lay his hand on Harry’s, squeezing softly. “No I get it, H, I’ve been there.” He soothed, thumb rubbing up and down Harry’s hand slowly. “You have?” Harry gasped, eyes growing wider when Louis hummed. Maybe it wasn’t that strange of him, maybe he could move on from feeling like he was. Louis had done the same, after all.

“Of course, I only saw the bad in people for a long time. Well, not all of them. I trusted Liam immediately when I met him.” Louis spoke. “That could’ve been a mistake on my part, but it turned out not to be.” Harry frowned, fingers softly tangling and untangling form Louis’. “How could you just trust him like that?” He asked, confused and a bit amazed.

Louis pondered for a moment. “I guess it had to do with me moving somewhere on my own, I needed someone to guide me around. Plus, Liam has these puppy eyes...I didn’t distrust him for a moment.” Louis smiled a bit despite himself. “But with guys that neither Li nor I knew, I was very wary of. I was fragile and still recovering, definitely not ready to give myself away to someone again.” Louis explained.

“Are you dating now?” Harry asked softly. Louis wiggled around a bit, hand falling back to his mattress. “Nah, I like being on my own. I’ve never really been independent, moving from my parents to my boyfriend, and now I have the time to be. It helps me realize what I’m worth on my own, you know, I don’t necessarily _need_ anyone else.” “Oh,” Harry muttered dumbly, his eyes able to distinguish Louis from the dark now.

He admired Louis so much in that moment, hearing how strong he was and how he’d rediscovered himself and how he was living the life he wanted now. He’d taken back control over himself and was doing things he liked and he didn’t mind being on his own, because he had friends. He put trust into people again even though he’d been hurt so badly before, and it had all worked out for him.

“Hey Haz, what about your friends?” Harry felt stung at that, ashamed, the familiar apathetic feeling creeping up inside him again. “Don’t really have any.” He answered, staring ahead again. Louis immediately picked up in how his voice had turned emotionless. “You had friends when I was here, what happened to them?” Harry had been the guy everyone knew and liked, the boy who was actually friends with everybody. Surely he couldn’t be all alone now?

“Don’t know, guess we grew apart..” Harry shrugged, voice cold. “You’re going to have to do better than that, H,” Louis sighed softly. “Please, I’m only here to help.” Harry felt pushed into a corner, conflicted. He wanted to spill his heart out to Louis, but at the same time he just wanted to forget all about it. He didn’t want to bring it up again, didn’t want to have to think about it anymore, didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” He grumbled, turning to face the wall. Louis sighed. “Okay Haz, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling slightly. “Thanks for talking to me, goodnight.” He whispered before turning and closing his eyes himself.

It was quiet for a long while, but neither of the boys were falling asleep. Louis’ mind was puzzling and puzzling, trying to figure out a way to get Harry to talk and also to get Harry to trust people again. Harry’s brains were a mix of everything he’d felt the past three years, combined with a new spark of hope Louis had ignited in him. Sadly, it wasn’t that big of a spark yet, and the negative thoughts still had the upper hand, controlling Harry’s emotions.

His friends all would’ve hurt him in the end, all would’ve left him when it would’ve come down to it. When Harry thinks about who actually knows things about him, it no one apart from his family, his sister and Louis, the only people he’s willing to keep close to him. Why would he bother telling people things about himself, being vulnerable around them, if all they can do with that information is hurt him? Why would he let anyone have so much power over him when he doesn’t know what they’ll do with it? Hearing Louis trusting that Liam-person scared Harry, praying the man would never let Louis down.

“I purposely keep them at distance, but I guess you have gathered that much.” Harry spoke up again, no idea about the time. He did know Louis was still awake, because he still recognised the sounds he made when he was in the different stages of sleep. “Why did you do that Haz?” Louis asked in return, glad the conversation could continue after all- even if it was well past midnight. “Because I didn’t really know them after all.” Harry answered after a while, words escaping with a sigh.

“Why didn’t you try to get to know them instead?” Louis asked, thanking every god there was that Harry was still answering, even though his questions were personal and could just as easily rub him off the wrong way. “Because what I saw of their true personalities was ugly.” Harry spat, although there was little venom behind his words. There was more fatigue, loneliness, sadness.

“Mind telling me the story behind this Hazza?” Louis shuffled closer to the edge of the mattress, determined to pick up Harry’s every word. “There’s not really a story to tell, we just hung out one day and they started talking about one of the guys that wasn’t there like gossipy little bitches, and well,” Harry cleared his throat. “I didn’t like them that much anymore, knowing how they’d easily talk about him behind his back, knowing they could do the same to me.” He shrugged, stomach twisting a bit as he remembered that day. It had started out just fine, but at one point they started burning the guy to ground while he wasn’t even there.

They had spilled all his secrets, mocking him, trashing on his girlfriend and how she was probably cheating on him. Harry had felt extremely uncomfortable and confused, a bit nauseated about his friends’ behaviour. But what had been worse, was when his friends were as normal as always when they saw their friend the next day, talking to him as they’d always done. It was then that Harry wondered if his friends were that fake to his face too, if they’d ever talked about him behind his back as they had talked about their friend and he just didn’t know.  

From then on he didn’t hang out with them that frequently anymore, didn’t tell them things that were on his mind. And then they stopped asking why he couldn’t come, or why he wasn’t there. It ended in the current situation: they just didn’t invite him anymore. He’d completely secluded himself from them, not able to trust them anymore. To protect himself, he didn’t trust anyone anymore, didn’t try to make new friends, didn’t do small talk. It was better that way.

He might not have told Louis this with so many words, but Louis got the gist. “So how does that connect to my abusive relationship?” Louis asked, wincing a bit at his own words. Not _abusive relationship,_ but with how business-like he sounded. He couldn’t help it, it’s what he did when things were difficult, he didn’t have the energy to put his emotions into it because he was thinking and thinking and trying to make it all better again. He needed to find the link between Harry’s solitude and his past, had to figure out how to mend it, but it would’ve been better if he could just let Harry know he hated what he was going through and that he really cared.

Harry broke into a little bit of a sweat, frowning because he didn’t know the answer. A thought hit him hard: had he blamed Louis for something that wasn’t his fault at all?  “Well, uh- I mean- I-” Harry was feeling increasingly panicky, swallowing and clearing his throat repeatedly. Was Louis mad at him now? God, how could he have been so quick to make up excuses while he was the only one to blame? He’d made Louis come back to the place he never wanted to return to, ordering to fix him while it was never him that broke him. “I don-..I don’t know..” Harry whispered hoarsely, feeling ashamed and tiny.

Louis sat up straight in bed, hand shooting out to soothe Harry, but hitting him in the head instead. “Shit! Sorry! Harry, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear!” His hand had now gotten a hold of Harry’s, squeezing tight. He really should’ve shown more emotion. Now he’d gone and scared Harry for no reason at all. “Haz, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I didn’t mean it so harsh. It was just a question like the others.” Louis pleaded. Harry’s breathing had become a bit messed up because of all the stupid emotions, intensified by the late hour, grabbing him by the throat. “Okay,” He uttered, gripping back tightly at Louis’ hand.

He was so confused now- did he or did he not have a reason to have Louis here? “Let’s revisit this. Okay? It’s been enough for tonight.” Louis’ voice was gentle, the tone he used to calm down his little sisters whenever they got hurt. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? It’s been enough.” He repeated. Harry nodded, albeit weakly, body curled towards the end of his bed. “I’m going to give you a kiss H, because I’m your brother now, and I do that. Don’t give me rebellious teenager shit, I’m going to give you kiss and you’ll be happy with it. Okay?” Harry smiled despite himself, closing his eyes and exhaling softly when Louis pressed his lips to his forehead.

Louis decided to sit with him for a little longer, face buried in his curls and hands interlocked. Harry soon drifted asleep, body curled up, little puffs of breath hitting Louis’ arm. Louis knew he’d get sore if he didn’t move to lie down soon, but he really didn’t want to pry his hand away from Harry’s. He’d done crazier things for his sisters, he could get a sore neck for Harry.

 

During the night, Louis had slipped down and fell asleep with his head against the side of Harry’s bed and he indeed woke up with a sore neck. He groaned as he pushed himself up, carefully trying to ease out the kinks in his neck while waking up. The room was already flooded with light, the curtains doing quite little to keep the sun out of the room. Louis smiled a bit to himself, remembering all the nights he’d woken up in Harry’s room, always awoken by the light because his own bedroom was so dark.

“Goodmorning.” Harry’s rumble sounded from his right. Louis greeted back around a yawn, smiling at Harry’s groggy face. “Nice do.” He commented, ruffling Harry’s curls to mess them even worse.

They started their day casually again, home alone because Anne and Robin had to work. Louis sent out a text to Zayn, confirming that he wouldn’t make it for his shift that day. Luckily, Louis had hedged himself before he left and told them to not expect him back that Monday, so he wasn’t missed.

 

“So, H,” Louis spoke around the piece of toast in his mouth. He swallowed it down with some tea before continuing. “we just need one more sit-down heart-to-heart, dearest brother.” He smiled apologetically. Harry groaned, head flopping down to rest on his arms. “Only one?” He asked, scepticism not masked in his voice. Louis sighed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm.

“Please?” He begged. “I promise you I can help you as soon as we find the link we missed last night, okay? That is the part I can help you with, after all.” He reasoned. Harry pursed his lips and sighed as he pushed himself away from the table. Louis followed him swiftly, the two of them squeezing together on the couch. “So, have you thought about it?” Harry snorted and levelled him with a look. Louis amended quickly. “Well, what did you find, then?”

The thing was, Harry was a bit drained. He hadn’t slept well the last few nights- hadn’t actually slept well in a long time- and he was tired. That in combination with all the emotional conversations with Louis had made him weary. The pro to that was that there weren’t as much barriers left to hold Harry back from spilling, or at least they weren’t that strong anymore. So he relatively easily started speaking about his findings from the night before.

“I guess it was just a lot at once. That whole debacle happened a little while after you left and around that same time my Dad had called me out of the blue.” Harry hadn’t really had contact with his Dad since he left when he was about seven, only got presents for his birthdays and Christmas. The call had been awkward and unsuspected, just his Dad calling for a chat as if he did it frequently. It had shaken Harry up at the least. 

“And this other friend had come to me in tears because his girlfriend had dumped him in a rather ugly way, and I guess I just-” Harry cut himself off, turning to direct his words at Louis more properly. “Your mother has gone through divorce twice, you’ve been abused by your boyfriend- don’t you ever jut lose faith in love?” And there it was, the real question were everything was focused on. It finally clicked in Louis’ mind.

Love.

Harry had seemingly lost his faith in love. By seeing it being shattered all around him- his parents, Louis’ parents, Louis himself, this friend of his- he didn’t believe it could ever be something positive anymore. First with couples and not too soon after even with his friends. Love is so narrowly connected to trust, and that trust had been broken in the same short amount of time that his vision of love had been shattered.

Louis realised he’d been staring at Harry quite intensely, while Harry was staring back at him in desperation. Louis reached out to smooth out the frown on Harry’s forehead and he cradled him a bit closer to him. “Oh Haz,” He sighed, pressing a kiss to his head. “I understand where you coming from, love, I really do.” Louis had been wary of love for a while, maybe not in the extreme way Harry was, but of course he’d had doubts about if he was ever going to find love.

“Life sucks every now and then, and it keeps throwing all these things at you that you feel like you don’t deserve.” Louis spoke. “But someone once told me that when your heart hurts, you know for sure it’s still working and there is a truth in that, don’t you think?” Harry shrugged a bit, he didn’t have it sorted out yet. He was content with just sitting there and listening to Louis, telling him how the world works. He felt thirteen again, and he’d gladly hold on to that feeling for a little longer.

“You can’t withdraw yourself from life, H, because it will go on with or without you. You can’t lock yourself away from all that’ll hurt you.” Louis continued, softly carting his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Why not?” His raspy voice asked softly, curling in on himself a bit more. “Because if you never take risks, you’ll never find the good things in life. They don’t come to you that easily Harry, you need to work for the good things.” Harry’s lips started wobbling then, because honestly- that sounded so scary.

“Has it paid off for you, then?” Harry asked, voice unstable and eyes burning with tears he wasn’t willing to shed. Louis pursed his lips as he pondered. “I feel like it has, in a way. Right now, I’m surrounded with all the greatest people I know and I keep learning more about myself. I’m in a good place right now.” He smiled. “But why did you have to have an abusive boyfriend before you deserved this?” Harry questioned, frowning up at him. “It’s not like that, H. I wasn’t a price I had to pay, but it was something thrown into my life and I survived. It made me stronger and less dependent and it gave me a different mindset. With that mindset, I achieved what I wanted to achieve.” Louis explained

“So what do I do then? Everything that had made me feel like shit has happened to other people. How do I go on?” Louis softly swiped his thumb underneath Harry’s eye, catching the stray tears that were present there. “What do you want to achieve?” Louis asked in return, looking Harry straight in the eye. Harry was taken aback at that, blinking at Louis sheepishly. “I..I don’t know...” He admitted, eyes trailing down and frown reappearing.

“That’s okay, it’s not an easy question, take your time for it.” Louis smiled softly. “But I think the solution will come down to opening yourself up again, trying to trust people and finding back your confidence.” Harry took a shuddering breath and slumped down against Louis on the exhale. “That sounds really scary.” He mumbled. “I promise you, it is. But you’re not alone in this, H.” Louis’ arms wrapped a little tighter around Harry’s slim waist as he said that and they stayed like that for hours.

 

 --

 

It all went way to fast after that. Louis had to head back to London, preferably that night. As much as Harry wanted to, he couldn’t keep him with him forever. It was hard for him to say goodbye to Louis again, but luckily, that time held a lot more promise. Louis left all his contact information behind and took all of Harry’s with him. Harry knew when was the best time to give Louis a call and vice versa. They’d stay in touch that time, that was the difference. Louis had begged Harry to come over to his place as soon as he had a break, wanting to show him all the good places in London.

He’d said his goodbyes to Anne and Robin already, who’d thanked him profusely for what he had done. “I am so thankful for you Louis, you’re a true blessing.” Anne had praised, not stopping when Louis turned red and awkward.

Now all there was left was Harry, who clung to him as tightly as Louis clung to him. “Treat me how you treat Gemma, yeah?” He spoke to his ear. Harry nodded vigorously, making Louis smile. “You’ll call me too, right?” Louis nodded back just as vigorously, causing Harry to laugh loudly.

Stepping outside the Styles’ residence, Louis jumped in surprise at the neighbours’ house looming over him. He scoffed at himself, averting his eyes and stalking to his car. He waved at the three people behind the window before he swiftly drove off. Because even though he’d reconnected with Harry, this town still made him feel like he was choking. Some things didn’t go away.

 

 --

 

“..And everyone got mad at me! As if I broke it!” Louis called out in despair. His screen showed a laughing Harry, curls matted from his shower and eyes sparkling with joy. “Well, knowing you, you could’ve.” He retorted, chuckling at the story Louis was telling. The popcorn machine had broken down that day at work, and it had seemed as if the customers were ready to start a riot. Louis gasped theatrically, putting his hand over his heart for good measure. “I’m wounded, blindsided by my own brother!”

Harry just smiled. Everything had been going a lot better now that he and Louis kept contact. They just talked about their days, sometimes doing homework in silence with Skype on, just so they could say anything that popped into their minds. Harry really appreciated that Louis did that for him, because it did make him feel a lot better. Sometimes they brought up the whole love/trust issue and Louis would listen to him and give him advice patiently.

A few weeks after Louis had left, Harry had called him up with an epiphany. “I know what I want to achieve, Lou.” He’d said. Louis had smiled and waited for him to speak. “I think I want to be in love and be loved.” He’d confessed softly, picking at his nails as he couldn’t help but blush. Louis had swallowed back the coo and had just nodded instead. “That’s a great goal to achieve, H. And do you know what the most attractive quality is to have?” He’d asked, quirking an eyebrow at Harry’s image on his computer. “What?” Harry had asked, mind flashing back to thirteen and seventeen, listening admiringly as Louis spoke words of wisdom. “Confidence.” Louis had said simply, smiling because he was sometimes so disarmingly endeared by his little brother.

So now Harry was trying to gain confidence. It was a hard journey for him, starting almost at the bottom with little to no confidence left. But he knew that if Louis could achieve what he’d wanted to achieve, Harry could do the same. He had a great role model, after all.  

**Author's Note:**

> (Ugh, endings... still can't get the hang of those.)
> 
> So you've made it to here! Props!
> 
> I'd really appreciate it if you told me what you think! Did you like it? Why (not)? Was it realistic to you?
> 
> Another thing, I've got an idea for a sequel (following Harry on his journey to find love), would anyone be interested in that?
> 
> Love to hear from you!  
> xxx


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